All That Glitters
by Silver Vixen
Summary: Stranded on a foreign planet in on unknown galaxy, things have taken their toll. What consquences does Atlantis hold?
1. Contact

**Title**: Contact

**Series**: All That Glitters

**Pairing(s)**: John/Teyla, Beckett/other

**Rating**: PG-13 (T+)

**Warnings**: None for Contact, violence, adult situations, and discussions of rape and abuse in later chapters.

**Disclaimer**: Stargate Atlantis, its characters and all related entities are the property of MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Productions and The SciFi Channel. This story was written for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author(s).

* * *

_Chapter One of All That Glitters:_

**Contact**

**

* * *

**

John Sheppard limped gingerly away from the infirmary.

_Very_ gingerly.

His knee still hurt like hell, but doing what FELT like pulling your knee out of its socket would do that to you.

It was Rodney's fault. Usually he blamed it on Rodney when it wasn't really his fault, but this time it was.

Rodney, in his never ending pursuit of more things to poke at and plug in, had forgotten to warn him about the big holes in the ground he had made in the process. And John had walked backwards right into one, catching his foot on a root on the way down and had jerked his knee almost out of it's socket.

Even Beckett had made a tiny gasp when he pulled back his pant leg and saw the already swelling appendage, not to mention the multitude of scratches, bruises, and cuts on various body parts.

Rodney was very smartly avoiding him.

If John could walk faster and still maintain a manly "I feel no pain" look, he would be sprinting to the lab to kick his scientist ass.

But the manly look was already looking threadbare after about a hundred feet.

_Goddamn, it hurts._

John quickly gave a pained smile to a passing group of soldiers and leaned against the wall.

_I need a chair._

Beckett, his brow knotted in doctoral worry, had offered John a ride to his room in a wheel chair but he had declined, taking a spare crutch instead.

_I'm an frickin' idiot._

Thankfully, there was an empty room, which had been dubbed the Art Room, because of the many artistically inclined Atlantis members who would frequent the room. It wasn't surprising that they did, the room boasted a wall of delicate windows that displayed the ocean quietly lapping beautifully. A ledge ran along the whole room, which provided suitable seating for the frequent informal meetings/parties that happened after everyone was off duty and needed to relax.

John hobbled his way to the ledge near the windows, gently lowering himself into a sitting position, his tender leg hanging limply, the other tucked up near his chin.

God, was he tired.

_I feel old._

He mused silently for on moment on that thought. He was not old. But he wasn't young. All right, well he was, relatively. But relative to what? Years? Experience? Life choices?

"Oh, sorry, didn't know anyone was in here!"

Sheppard jumped at the sound of another voice and almost lost his balance, planting his bad leg on the floor for stability.

Which instantly made him feel sick to his stomach as pain ripped through his leg into his chest. He groaned and clenched the ledge's edge, closing his eyes in a mental struggle not to let it get him.

_John, get a hold of your self! It doesn't hurt that...oh, god, no, it does._

"Whoa, easy."

The voice came closer and it's presumed owner laid their hand against his shoulder gently.

"Major Sheppard, are you alright? Should I get Scotland?"

He squinted his eyes open to see the maker of that comment about the good doctor Beckett.

The speaker was a young archaeologist, one of Dr. Jackson's personal recommendations for the trip. She was well known around the base for many reasons, not all of them good.

One of the youngest people to travel to Atlantis, she liked to stir up trouble as her temper matched the subtle red of her curly hair. She was known to exact revenge on any soldier daring enough to try to tell her to hurry it up on any off world missions.

He had never actually met her, there was little need to, but he heard enough from Rodney who frequently mumbled things about the "stupid poet lesbian chick who thinks she can steal my stuff for 'research'".

Teyla had said things of a kinder vein, commenting once that she was very willing to hear about Teyla's people and had invested a lot of time into finding out about their music, culture, and more.

He did remember reading her name on a New York Time's book list once, long before Atlantis. She was apparently a slightly famous poet and had written a few books, one of which had done well enough that John had flipped through it on occasion in his local library.

"I'm fine," he managed.

_I'm not fine. Shut up. I am. No, you aren't._

She raised an eyebrow, as she sat across from him on the ledge, "Really? Sure I don't need to get Scotland?"

"Do you really call him that?"

"What? To his face?"

John leaned back, letting the pain flow away, "Yeah."

"We get along. I lived near where he's from for about a year. We talked. We like each other. I can get away with it, so I call him that and he pretends to be offended," she grinned, lifting an afore unseen acoustic guitar unto her lap.

"Do you play?" He motioned towards the guitar.

She shook her head, strumming the strings ever so gently, "No. Not really. It was a death gift from my horribly morbid boyfriend/best friend."

He wasn't sure which part of that sentence to ask about first. The fact that she had a boyfriend when all he had heard was the growled "stupid lesbian" from Rodney or that he had died.

"Oh," was the best he could come up with.

She grinned, "I'm not a lesbian."

"Okay."

"Well, that was most likely what you were thinking about. It seems to be the flashing neon sign above my head around here. Were you?"

Sheppard shifted as a bit, "No…okay, yes."

"I'm not. I'm an equal opportunity employer."

She paused, waiting to see if he got it.

John didn't take the obvious bait, "So, bi."

She sighed in defeat, "Most people don't get it."

"What can I say, I'm smart," He quipped.

She grinned and fiddled with the strings, attempting to tune the instrument. They sat in relative silence for a few minutes, in a comfortable, but slightly awkward, silence; John sinking into the pain of his knee, watching her drifting into the concentration of tuning.

_You should say something. _

"I'm John. Maj. John Sheppard."

She looked up, "I know."

"Oh…"

_Well, that totally worked. Nice conversation starter there._

She grinned, "I'm Aries Marten. Civilian. Archeologist. Writer."

"I know," He grinned back at her.

She laughed and John did as well until his leg protested. He rubbed it gently.

"So what did ya' do to it?" She gestured towards his knee, her brow furrowed in concern.

John winced, "Rodney."

Aries leaned back and sarcastically said "Ah. Wonder Boy."

John lifted an eyebrow, "You too really don't like each other do you?"

"Why? Does he say stuff about me?" Her green eyes gleamed with a light that screamed wheels turning and evil plans being concocted in her head.

He nodded, "Things along the line of 'stupid lesbian chick stealing my stuff'"

Aries rolled her eyes, "Sounds like McKay. I swear, the minute that man learned I would not kiss random women for his entertainment even when two sheets to the wind, we've butted heads."

"You have my attention!" John laughed.

She waved her hands in a no big deal motion, "Atlantis was not our first meeting. I don't know why Daniel though we would work well together."

"Dr. Jackson?"

She nodded, "Yeah. That genius decided to bring Rodney along with us while checking some Ancient ruins that where giving off some energy signals and thirty minutes late, McKay had insulted me twice, looked at my boobs quite a few times, and made me want to castrate him every second since. I almost killed Daniel as well…but I would've lost my eye candy then."

He wasn't sure whether to laugh or ponder Dr. Jackson being eye candy. Probably better not the latter.

Aries laughed as he puzzled that out.

"Well, I'll give you the comments about McKay. Though I'll leave Dr. Jackson's eye candy-ness up to a more informed party," he conceded.

She put her hand up as if offering to be a part of that party.

John laughed and realized they had settled easily into a friendship after a fifteen minute conversation. That had not happened in a long time. Especially with a girl. Women on Atlantis either weren't interested or were only interested in getting him into bed. Which he didn't mind, until two days later when the emptiness of those nights settled in.

The only women he actually felt close to weren't those kind of women. Both Teyla and Weir were equals. Friends.

There was that unspoken "thing" with Teyla. He wasn't sure if it was attraction or the fact that Teyla seemed more like his wife (not that he actually knew what that would be like) than his comrade, which in itself was a weird way to look at their relationship.

And Weir, well, he had no damn clue what their relationship was. Frustrating. Yes, that was a good word.

"Maj. Sheppard? What are you doing here?"

He and Aries turned to look at Dr. Beckett who was heading across the large room towards them, looking as fierce as the usually kind doctor could manage.

He stopped when he saw Aries and blinked, "Oh. _She's_ distracting you."

"I am not! Blaming me as always, Scotland."

Beckett turned to John, "I thought I told you to go to your room and sleep."

Sheppard shrugged, "I made it this far and got stuck."

Beckett shook his head, "I'll go get that wheel chair."

He walked away before Sheppard could protest.

Aries bit her lip, "Sorry to keep you. I should've made you go away."

"No. It's fine. I couldn't make it that far anyway," He grinned, "Besides, now I know who to blame for McKay's offhanded 'stupid lesbian' comments."

Aries laughed and gently pushed his shoulder in mock anger. John pushed her back as one of Beckett's nurses entered the room with a wheelchair.

"Your throne's arrived!" said the nurse brightly.

"Well, this is me," John said, as he limped his way over to the chair with Aries assistance.

"See ya round, space cowboy!" she yelled as he was wheeled away.

John mused on the way back to his room. He carefully undressed and fell into his bed. As the pain medication the nurse had given to him sailed him into sweet painless oblivion, he mused about red haired poets and warrior girls.

* * *

I wanted to explore John's more inner feelings and I felt they were best explore with a sort of different character playing of him. Besides the fact that I needed a strong female character to interact on a strictly non-romantic level with John. I want to portray some of the more human, day to day aspects of Atlantis rather than missions. How to all affected them leaving Earth and everything behind. 

I'm working up to a mission and the some character development. Wait for it. The second part is called Becoming Undone.

Update 04/04/05: fixed a few typos that probably no one noticed but me. Next chapter to be up probably tomorrow.


	2. Become Undone

**Title**: Become Undone

**Series**: All That Glitters

**Pairing(s)**: John/Teyla, Beckett/other

**Rating**: PG-13 (T+)

**Warnings**: None for Become Undone (except for large alcohol consumption!), violence, adult situations, and discussions of rape and abuse in later chapters.

**Disclaimer**: Stargate Atlantis, its characters and all related entities are the property of MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Productions and The SciFi Channel. This story was written for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author(s).

Author notes at bottom of story.

* * *

_Chapter Two of All That Glitters:_

** Become Undone**

* * *

John took another swig of the extremely strong brew that Teyla had brought over from the main land and almost choked at the feeling of fire going through his chest. 

"Maj. Sheppard?" Teyla asked concernedly, as he coughed a few times and handed the bottle to Ford.

He shook his head in an effort to clear away the burning sensation, "What do you put in this stuff, Teyla? It's like Everclear on crack!"

She grinned at him but didn't answer, as Carson had asked her a question about the after effects of the brew. A quite pertinent question, considering how much the Scot had ingested. John had never seen someone drink that much and seem so un-drunk.

John leaned back against the wall and sighed, letting the alcohol calm him and ease him into the early glow of drunkenness. He treasured the rest, it seemed like more and more these days he felt run down and sick of everything. Even though his knee had healed nicely after twisting it quite badly a few weeks ago, he still felt drained and worn.

_Rest good. Alcohol, even better. _

It was Chrismashannakwanazayule (Weir liked equality) and she had ordered a three day holiday, a respite from the Wraith, the work, and the world. She had also looked the other way when Teyla had suggested bringing in some "festive" drinks after she learned about the traditional alcohol consumption customs of Winter Solstice and Christmas. Teyla had even gotten into the Christmas spirit by ordering all her friends to exchange gifts.

That had been interesting, to say the least.

John had found himself strapped for ideas and had spent an entire night rummaging through his meager stores of things that resemble presents without any luck. He had a plethora of native pots, jewelries, and trinkets that had been presented to him on other planets but all of it seemed impersonal and most of his team had many of the same items.

He had still been frustrated when Teyla had practically pushed him into a jumper with her to travel to the mainland. He'd wandered around talking to villagers until he saw a young man creating trinkets out of a silver-like substance that seemed in ready supply on most planets in the Pegasus galaxy.

Was he ever thankful that his college girlfriend was an artsy chick and had spent a lot of her time dragging John to the metal smithing studio and teaching him how to lost was cast, use a kiln, and a jew saw. He had to admit, he had been skeptic until she had told him he would get to use a blowtorch.

And now the small silver medallions, carved with a simple "a" on one side and the "aturi" symbol on the other (except for Teyla's which was carved with an Athosian symbol that meant luck and health) hung on quite a few necks in the circle of drinking friends gathered here tonight.

They were the last remnants of the Chrismashannakwanazayule party that had been held in the "Art Room". Many of the others had either gone to bed or were off to make merry elsewhere with the underhandly dealt jugs of Athosian spirits.

"John!" yelled Aries drunkenly from across the small circle of people, "Keep drinking and stop thinking!"

Drunken cheers and something like "Wassail!" from Beckett prompted him to take another, though gentler, swig of the spirits.

Teyla took the bottle from him and poured a bit more into her own cup before passing it to Beckett. John raised his arm from where it sat between them and up around her shoulder. She lean back against it and snuggled towards him as Aries and Beckett continued their discussion on pagan festivities in ancient Great Britain.

Warmth spread through his body, the kind warmth of alcohol.

_Well, that and Teyla being really, really close._

He was attracted to her and every time they fought with those damn sticks, he found it less like practice and more like flirting. It was rather odd and quite discomforting as he'd found himself more than once "unable" to continue and retain his dignity.

Both times, Teyla had grinned a bit too much not to have noticed anything.

It was just so damn confusing. He shouldn't be fraternizing with a lower officer, not that anything Teyla and him did was fraternizing, but at the same time she wasn't really a part of the military. She wasn't even from his planet!

Which begged another question. What was going to happen if they ever got the Stargate to work again and they went home?

And it wasn't just a selfish question. He wasn't the only Atlantian who'd found love (okay, good ole' lust on his part) across the galaxy. Some of the Athosian women were even pregnant to the Atlantis crew, much to Weir's chagrin, and a few of Sheppard's officers had already approached him and asked him for his permission to get married.

God forbid, they would ever have to leave their wives and loved ones behind. Many had already left behind people on Earth.

His hand tightened on Teyla's shoulder and she looked up at him before continuing her conversation with a very drunk Ford and McKay.

He took in the group, still pondering consequences as he surveyed the small band of people who seemed to have become his family on Atlantis.

Beckett and Aries where sitting across from him. Aries had situated herself between Beckett's legs and had leaned back against his chest, one hand in his, the other making gestures in the air.

Beckett was smiling softly as he listened to her, his left hand stroking her hair.

Funny, how Aries had only mentioned them being _friends_.

_That girl gets what she wants._

Aries and him had become good friends after a few weeks. She had showed up at his door with a bar of carefully saved chocolate she had hoarded for a special occasion, or a "really bad PMS day" she had said, the day after they'd met and John had badly hurt his knee. They had split it on one of the balconies near his room that overlooked the clear sea, talking about love, life, and home while savoring the sweetness of a chocolate bar that had been made millions of light years away.

Since then, she'd easily joined the regulars (though with some resistance from Rodney); McKay, Teyla, Ford, Beckett, himself, Zelenka, Peter, and a few others that floated in and out, including Dr. Weir.

Zelenka had begged off the rowdy drinking to go with "home" with one of the female scienctists. Peter looked positively exhausted and had gone to bed quite early. Weir had left a little later, proclaiming she couldn't handle her alcohol very well and that she had a migraine. Beckett, in the quickest sobering up John had ever seen, had jumped up and offered to get her some migraine pills from the infirmary. Weir had shrugged him off and gone back to her room.

He worried about her. She seemed cut off and intentionally so. She maintained strong relationships with Team 1, but the rest of the base seemed to have no more than a practical working relationship with her. John chalked it up to having to be military as a non-military and the fact that she had left someone behind.

_Not that all of the rest of us didn't. But, it her case, it's different._

He turned his attention back to the conversation at hand.

"Iowa sunsets," said Aries, a dreamy look on her face.

Rodney snorted, "Iowa? Sunsets?"

"Hey! I grew up there!"

Ford snorted as well, "Now that explains a lot."

"Hey!"

John shrugged, lifting hands in mock defeat as Aries looked to him for help, "They have good college football."

"Thank you!" said Aries, huffily, as Carson rolled his eyes behind her. It was obvious to John that he heard this all before.

"What is Iowa?" asked Teyla, looking thoroughly confused.

John turned to her, "It's a state in the middle of the United States. It's known best as a farming state…"

"They're all hicks," said McKay before taking another swig from his cup.

Aries sighed and shook her finger at McKay, "Don't be talking, Canada! It's a very nice place with very kind people. They have the beautiful sunsets there as well."

John could see her eyes leaving Atlantis and traveling back to the image of the sunsets ingrained on her brain.

"It was like oil slicks on puddles, the gentlest colors of purple and pink and orange. My house was on a hill that overlooked the west, where the sun sets, and every fall night was an explosion of color that even Van Gogh would've been frustrated at in replicating," she said quietly, everyone's attention on her.

"It's sounds beautiful," said Teyla.

Aries cleared her throat, her eyes bright with a combination of alcohol and emotion, "Aye, that it is. I miss it a lot, even though I haven't lived there since I was thirteen."

The group descended into silence for a moment, the only sounds Beckett pouring more into Aries's cup.

"I miss my apartment," Sheppard said, covering his cup with his hand and shaking his head as Beckett offered him a refill. He was a total lightweight when it came to hard liquor, though he very admitted it.

"Why?" Ford questioned, holding out his cup to Beckett to refill.

John shrugged, adjusting his arm that lying over Teyla's shoulder, "I don't know. I guess it's just, nothing here reminds me of anything."

"What do you mean?" asked Ford, handing Carson McKay's cup to refill.

"I mean, nothing here means anything to me. Like, stupid stuff. Photos. Scratches on my walls that I made by throwing my shoes at it. Paint colors I spent weeks picking out," John said, struggling for the words to describe the feeling that seemed to haunt him.

Carson nodded, "I know what you mean. The littlest things. My favorite chair, how all the leather was cracked and comfortable."

"Fabric your mom helped you pick out for your sofa," interjected Aries.

"All the drunken notes that my friends stuck on my refrigerator," Ford offered.

McKay hiccupped and said, "My cat…and how you had to kick my washing machine door to get the door to stay shut."

Aries sighed longingly, "My biscuit of an editor."

"My grandmother's voice on my answering machine."

"Buying things at malls."

"Driving."

"The internet."

"Porn."

"Aries!"

"What? We were all thinking it, Scotland!"

"I am truly confused."

John laughed and ruffled Teyla's hair, "I explain it when I'm way less drunk."

She lifting an eyebrow and grinned at him, "I think I have an idea."

John grinned back and pulled her every so slightly closer to him as he let the warmth of drunken friendship wash over him and the cold bite of his former life slip away.

* * *

I like this. I like it a lot. Next time, I am hoping mission! Maybe. I'm not sure. Okay, so maybe one more before the mission. Yes, Carson and Aries will develop. Not sure where to yet. Will probably have some Weir and McKay (I love him, but have to figure out how to reconcile him and Aries first) next time in the story. (Not as a couple, just that they haven't gotten a lot of face time, I'm not a big McWeir fan.) 

More John and Teyla hinted ness. Very unlikely they will hook up in a permanent sense. My feeling on that is that relationship is going to simmer FOREVER and I won't be the one to hurry it up.

More John angst on the way.

Oh, and John's metal smithing abilities? Seemed like a random talent he would have and I took metal smithing in high school and guys LOOOOVED playing with solder and blow torches. Seemed like a tasty fit.

Oh, and thanks to Snow'sLuckyCat for the idea to call McKay "Canada"! Yeah for annoying Rodney!

The next part will be titled Past Perfect.


End file.
